“Get a hold of yourself, Klaus, your boy is dead—” The German leader hadn’t struck me as the type to go into denial, especially at a time like this.

“I mean that this is an impossibility. This is some sort of magic trick. I know these beasts. We destroyed them years ago. They only come from one very specific place in my country. They cannot simply appear here.”

“Well, they have.”

“So it appears.” Lindemann didn’t sound convinced. “Something is here.”

“Assuming these are your old pals, how do we kill them?”

“The suits are mecha-magical constructs. The creatures that live inside them are the intelligence and source of power. They are vulnerable to heat. They can only survive in cold and moist environments.”

“They aren’t going to like Vegas much,” I said.

“Anybody got a flamethrower?” Earl shouted. The call was repeated, but sadly, even Hunters aren’t prone to drag along anything that heavy, awkward, and potentially lethal on vacation. Plus, checking a flamethrower onto a commercial airliner is a pain in the ass. “Damn it. Find me some incendiaries. Make some Molotovs. Z, hold that doorway no matter what!”

The better-armed Hunters had formed a line to take a turn. Despite the language barrier, everybody had caught on pretty quick that we did not want whatever everyone else was shooting at in 1613 to get out. “Got it.” A quick glance confirmed that the monsters were getting closer, but they were having to funnel toward us, and as the armor-piercing rounds took them down, they were being forced to clamber over the fallen. We were chewing them to bits.

But there were still more coming out of the river…

“Here! These should help.” Esmeralda Paxton squeezed past the line of Hunters with an armful of liquor bottles and a set of curtains over one shoulder. She flipped open her knife and began slashing strips from the curtains. She handed me a bottle and a rag.

“Will this stuff burn?” I smelled it. What was that, ninety proof? “Gah, never mind.” I stuffed the strip of curtain into the neck of the bottle and swished it around until it was soaked. I didn’t smoke, but anybody who might need to set something or someone on fire should always carry a lighter. Before I could get mine out of my armor one of the Europeans reached over, flipped open a turbo lighter, and ignited the rag. “Thanks.” And to think that I’d complained about all those annoying smokers earlier.